Let s Begin Again
by TheSkySpiritsTalentShow
Summary: Based after the Freedom Ending. (Spoilers for this particular ending) The Narrator is alone in the Office, without Stanley, without a Story, without a purpose. This can be NarratorxStanley or not. You decide.


The sigh he let out was long and heavy, bouncing around the room, mockingly reminding him of his solitude. It was just him, a cold can of some fizzy soda he didn´t bother to learn the name of and the beautiful constructed employee lounge. It was a refreshing really, the blue gave him a serene feeling and there was nothing wrong with the pictures hanging on the wall either.

The only problem was that there were no employees. Not a single one. Ever since Stanley left, he was all alone in the enormous company.

The Narrator sighed again and sipped at the can, chuckling quietly to himself as he remembered Stanley walking in here after his detour. He had started pressing every button on the vending machine but the silly boy hadn´t inserted any coins, which left him empty handed.

The Narrator had been quite glad when Stanley had decided to obey him again and walked straight to the meeting room. He didn´t want him falling off the cargo lift or pressing that big red button in the maintenance section.

It did look tempting, but not even he had an idea what was down there. He didn´t want Stanley to get hurt if there _was_ anything dangerous.

The story continued how it should have. Stanley walked into his boss´ office, found no one, randomly punched in numbers on the keypad until he got the right code (wonder how he managed, found the Mind Control Facility, shut it off and set foot into freedom.

He remembered how delighted they were. How Stanley smiled, a real big smile that he hadn´t seen on the boy´s face for years. How he dropped to his knees, touched the warm, sunbathed earth, smelled the patch of daisies growing alongside the dirt path. How he laughed with tears in his eyes and shouted, "I´m free! I´m finally free! Thank you, thank you!"

The Narrator stood up, tossing the now empty can into a nearby trash bin. The happiness had faded long since then. Now he was alone, completely isolated. He had no story to tell, no one to talk to and nothing to do. For once, he felt utterly useless and depressed.

No, he was being selfish, he told himself. Stanley got what he deserved. He got his life back that had been so cruelly ripped away from him. Wishing him back, under the influence of that blasted machine, trapped within a tiny box called his office, it wasn´t right.

"I´ll find another thing to do." The Narrator said out loud. "I am the Narrator after all. I can make up another story if I have to." The sound of his voice chased the ghosts away and he felt more confident. Smiling, the Brit walked up to the boss´s office. He remembered seeing some books there.

"Perhaps reading other people´s stories will get my mind off the emptiness."

But he was disappointed. There were no stories. Only books on money and shipping business. Disgusted, he put them back. The boss was a greedy old man. The Narrator was so glad he had removed him from his story.

"But what else could I do? I suppose…I could take a walk through the company, from first floor to the last, just for nostalgic reasons. Yes, that sounds like an excellent plan." The Narrator jumped to his feet and jogged to the nearest elevator. As he went into Employee 001´s office, his mind returned to Stanley.

Had his happiness lasted longer? Was he doing okay? Were people treating him nice? Did he go home and sleep? Was he thinking of the Narrator, the one who had guided him to freedom? Did he miss the office as much as the office missed him?

This and a lot more ran through the tall male´s head as he wandered the long, dark corridors of the company. The sun was setting, casting its red glow through the window. It truly looked beautiful, a nice change to the constant blinding white that employees had encountered everytime they looked out the window.

The boss had thought, what they couldn´t see, they couldn´t want. All part of his terrible plan. No one could long for the outside, for the sun and for fresh air, if they didn´t experience it at all. Of course they were allowed home, it´s just that sitting in their offices for thirteen hours, well…all the fake happiness they experienced, the joy and satisfaction placed into their minds, it made them come back again and again, believing that making money and working hard was true bliss.

Late into the night he walked, examining cabinets and files. It was interesting to read for one reason. Not everyone was affected by the machine´s power. Some of their minds were already manipulated by society and they worked pretty normally, hating their jobs and co-workers.

Most of them wrote complaints on scratch papers, others drew pretty pictures and some had written their theories of what they believed had been going on with the employees of the other floors and why they were so happy. Everything from extra payment to drugs had surfaced, making the Narrator smile.

He wanted to go on and read more, but he was so dreadfully tired of today´s events, that he found the nearest chair and plopped himself down on it. He put his feet onto the desk and crossed his arms, falling into a light sleep.

In his dream, he was thirsty, so he headed to the lounge to get himself a drink. All of the vending machine´s buttons had an eight pictured on them, confusing him. When he pressed a button next to a lime soda, a voice startled him.

"EIGHT!"

It seemed to come from inside the machine. After a moment of shock, the Narrator shrugged and put an eight dollar coin into it. At first nothing happened, until he heard a metallic clang. Reaching inside thought, his fingers wrapped around something warm and squishy.

It wasn´t a soda can, it was a miniature Stanley! They stared at each other for a minute before Stanley said, "I´m happy now." He opened his mouth and a spray of soda came out of his mouth, spilling all over the Narrator´s white shirt.

Then, he woke up. His stiff muscles cracked as he stood up. His mouth was dry and after his weird as hell dream, all he could think about was a delicious, cold drink.

The Narrator walked back to the elevator and pushed the button leading to the fourth floor. As he ascended, he felt the hollow sadness from the day before returning, only hitting him much harder than previously. Stanley was gone. His one and only Stanley, the one he had spent so long thinking and writing about was gone. His story was fulfilled and Stanley was gone.

Oh how he wished the boy had been more rebellious. How he wished Stanley would´ve closed the door to his office and refused to step out. Or ridden the cargo lift all the way up to the ringing phone, where at least he would still be in his office.

No…no no no, he mustn´t think that way! Stanley was where he belongs

He…wasn´t under his domineering gaze anymore, but in the hands of thousands of citizens, who might treat him bad. They might laugh at him for being socially awkward or even worse, call him a button loving freak. Oh he couldn´t handle this. He must find a way to get Stanley back, he must-

A sharp slap interrupted the annoying elevator tune and the Narrator rubbed his cheek regretfully. If he would do that, he wouldn´t be any better than Stanley´s boss. And if he had to slap sense into himself night after day, he would. He had set Stanley free, he had done the right thing.

_**Ding! **_

The doors slid open and the Narrator rushed outside, going straight for the employee lounge. He quickly extracted a drink from the metal box and hurried down the hall again, towards the offices.

And if Stanley never comes back, at least his office is still here. The only thing he had left of his favorite employee.

The Narrator was so caught up in his thinking, he failed to notice a major detail until he was standing in front of the door. The door with the numbers 427 on it. He reached out to the handle, but stopped cold.

What? No…what´s going on?

Slowly, the Narrator let his trembling hand sink again to his side, his eyes wide. He stared at the door, wondering if he had truly gone insane right then and there.

It just couldn´t be possible.

He…he heard faint sounds coming from inside…Stanley´s office. Tapping noises…like a keyboard being beaten upon by quick fingers.

Was someone inside? Who? Why would someone break into Stanley´s office? Who would dare to break into Stanley´s office? Aren´t they aware of how disrespectful and _wrong _that was?! What if it´s really Stanley? What if it´s Stanley´s boss? What would he, the Narrator, do if there really were someone inside? Was he really just crazy?

Unable to handle all these questions longer, the Narrator dropped the can and grabbed the handle bursting into the room with such force that the door almost fell off its hinges.

But the door was the least of his concern. As a matter of fact, everything in this big, wide world was the least of his concern. The only thing he could focus on, the only thing his mind took notice of, were the bright brown eyes and a small smile on pink lips, forming a greeting.

"Hi-" Stanley barely finished his sentence when the Narrator let out a loud yell and tackled the dark haired employee into a bear hug, pushing him back against the filing cabinets.

"STANLEY!"

Said man flinched at the impact, awkwardly returning the hug, as he hadn´t gotten used to physical contact yet.

"Stanley…" The Narrator pulled back and grabbed the employee´s shirt, shaking him. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS ABOUT YOU? I WAS CONSTANTLY SCARED OF WHAT THEY MIGHT DO TO YOU!"

"I…missed you too?" Stanley nervously rubbed his neck. He hated getting yelled at, especially from an authoritative figure.

"Right, right, I´m sorry Stanley, I can´t explain what came over me." The Narrator let him go, but beamed. "I´m so happy you came back! Ah…hm…why did you return actually?"

Stanley casted his eyes downward. "After I left, I spend a while looking around. I-it…everything was so overwhelming. So loud and new and I started having a panic attack. But I told myself to at least spend one night at home and decide if I want to change my job or not. B-but as soon as the sun rose I headed straight for the office."

He looked up at the Narrator, pleading with his eyes. "I don´t want a different job. I want to work here, I want to see you every day. I don´t care if I´m going to get brainwashed again, I want to stay here. With my buttons, with my endings, with you. Please, don´t make me go back."

The taller man took a step closer to the boy and wrapped him in his arms once again. "I won´t, I promise." He whispered. "And if the boss ever comes back, I´ll make sure he´ll never seize control over you again. You know what, Stanley? I think I´ll just get a new boss. And new employees. Let´s begin again."

Stanley pulled away, a smile on his face. "Thank you!"

The Narrator smirked. "Anything for my favorite employee. Now come on." He pulled the employee out into the hallway. "I´ll teach you how a vending machine works. Also, I had the weirdest dream about you today. Ha, it was ridiculous."


End file.
